A/N: Hi ... My friend Misha wrote this on facebook with her friend Gavin and they gave me permission to post it here, Its a great story so READ ^.^

You know, I think there's three things humans think about most: life, love, and death. But out of all of them, I think we focus the most on death. Or ... at least I do. Then again, I died, came back, died again, and came back once more. What can I say? I'm stubborn and I have unfinished business. Hell, you think I would go through all of that trouble to come back to life just to see myself die again? No. That would be a pain in the ass. And since we're talking about hell, let me just say, it's not as bad as everyone thinks. It's not a place of punishment. More of a place where god sends all the people he doesn't like, pretty much another heaven but a little different. Anyway, this story isn't about the true tales of what happens after death, it's the story of how I died and how I came back.
First off, my name is Mish. That's all you need to know about my name. I don't really think my full name is fitting and you don't need to hear it. I mostly run by the name of Rainbow Ripper these days. Ever since the disaster, 2019 isn't so safe anymore, so you need a code name if you're gonna be a killjoy and pretty much try your best NOT to get killed. Sadly, I already kinda did. Here's how it happened: I was just running around the desert shooting at who I THOUGHT was my best friend but apparently chose to go to the dark side. I didn't really wanna kill her so I shot low at her legs with my raygun, only trying to slow her down. Well, I guess she had other plans. Next thing I knew, I'm running into the base, holding my stomach to stop the bleeding, and falling into my friend Max's arms. And then.... Well.... and then it went dark. Black. That's all I saw. The last thing that was on my mind was "Dammit. I died. Well this sucks."